Flirty at 9:30
by Teenage Mouse
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is busy staring longingly at his co-worker, Alfred, when he is interrupted by a phonecall from a radio DJ. It's time for the show's daily dating segment 'Flirty at 9:30' and apparently someone has a secret crush on Arthur...


Arthur Kirkland loved his job. Not because of the work or the money, but because of the view from his desk. From where Arthur sat, all he had to do was lean a little to the right, let his gaze wander beyond his computer screen, and there was Alfred F. Jones.

Arthur usually tried to hold in his longing sighs but his prying desk-neighbour, Francis, wasn't here today, so he could risk it. He really couldn't help it when the American's golden face was alight with endearing enthusiasm like this as Alfred spoke to someone nearby that Arthur couldn't see (probably on the other side of one of the cubicle partitions), his hands flying animatedly to accompany his story. How Arthur wished Alfred could talk to him like that…

Arthur's phone rang, ripping him out of his happy morning daydream. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from Alfred and picked up the receiver.

"Good morning. Arthur Kirkland speaking. How may I help you?"

"_Hello, Arthur, this is Elizabeta Héderváry from Capital Radio. How are you today?_"

Arthur's eyebrows slowly furrowed. "Why are you calling me?" he demanded.

For some reason, Elizabeta laughed. "_Wow, scary!__I see our mystery caller was right about you. Well, then, let's get right to the point. Every weekday on my show we do a segment called 'Flirty at 9:30' and so I'm calling on behalf of an interested party who rather fancies you._"

There was a long pause, before Arthur finally said "What."

"_It means someone has a secret crush on you~_" Elizabeta sang down the line at him.

"…What."

"_Oh, come on, Arthur!_" Elizabeta groaned, with mock exasperation. "_The guy who called in for you was singing your praises, don't act like a moron and make him look like he has bad taste, okay?_"

"Excuse me?!" Arthur exclaimed. "It's not my problem if some creep wants to call the radio and get you to ask me out for him like a bloody school child! I don't owe him anything!"

"_Now, Arthur, there's no need to get hostile_," Elizabeta soothed in his ear. "_If you're really against this, I can hang up and consider this a lost cause. But I don't want to do that. And do you know why? Because your mystery caller is the most sincere suitor I've ever had on this show, and I want to help him. He likes you a lot, and you'd be flattered if you could hear him talk about you! He's just too scared to talk to you in person. You can see why, can't you?_"

Arthur looked down at his knees, feeling a bit guilty. "I suppose…" he mumbled, unable to deny it when he was fully aware how snappy he'd been to the radio host in the past two minutes. It was a pretty good indicator of his permanently grumpy disposition.

"_Good. Well, then let's get started._"

Elizabeta's voice perked up now that Arthur was cooperating, and Arthur steeled himself for what was sure to be a very awkward conversation. "_I have a mystery caller on the line for you, Arthur, and you have to decide if you want to go out with him. If you agree to the date, the two of you get a free dinner at a fancy restaurant in London - all on me, of course. How does that sound?_"

"I suppose I can hear you out," Arthur acquiesced, already wincing in embarrassment.

"_Excellent!_" Elizabeta squealed. "_So I'm going to see if you can guess who's calling for you. Your first clue is a bit unusual: apparently you and your mystery man don't get along too well._"

"Then why is he trying to ask me out?" Arthur asked, bewildered.

"_I think he sees that there's more to you than your…gruff exterior,_" Elizabeta supplied, diplomatically. "_It might be worth giving him a chance, I'm just saying."_ Arthur bristled, but Elizabeta chattered on._ "But I'm guessing there are a few people you don't get along with considering that charming attitude of yours, so let's move on to clue number two. What if I told you your mystery man works with you, and he's a transfer from abroad?_"

"Not too helpful, I'm afraid," Arthur said, glancing around in surprise and suspicion at his neighouring cubicles. "Most of my floor are transfers. It's an international company."

"_Well, then, that leaves the big final clue: think tall, blond hair, blue eyes. I haven't seen a picture, but just from the voice and that sexy accent, ugh, I bet he's _gorgeous_!_" Elizabeta practically moaned into the phone.

Tall, blond hair, blue eyes, sexy accent. Arthur's first thought was Alfred and his heart soared for a moment…until he remembered that Francis had blond hair, blue eyes and an accent, too.

In fact, most of those clues fit Arthur's flirtatious French co-worker (who was mysteriously absent today) and it would be _just_ like Francis to call up a radio station to ask someone out. So ostentatious.

Arthur glanced one more time at Alfred – still playing solitaire, still busy not being on the phone secretly calling in to a radio station – and sighed.

"Um, look, I have to say no. I…I already have feelings for someone. It's unrequited but I can't see myself getting over it any time soon, so…it just wouldn't be fair to go out with anyone else, knowing I can't reciprocate."

"_Well, this is very sad_," said Elizabeta, soberly. "_But at least it's not personal, right, Alfred? It's not that Arthur doesn't like you, he just already has feelings for someone else, that's all._"

For a moment, Arthur was confused. Why was she saying Alfred's name? Did she somehow know about Arthur's crush?!

But then another voice joined Elizabeta's on the line.

"_Yeah, I guess. I was…really hoping, though._"

It was Alfred's voice. Unmistakably.

Arthur's eyes shot to Alfred, and once again, the American wasn't on the phone. But he was blushing, looking down at his desk with the most heartbroken little smile on his face.

"_So Arthur, just to be clear: you're going to turn down the lovely Alfred F. Jones because you have feelings for someone else?_"

As Arthur stared at his co-worker, dumbstruck, Alfred turned towards him -and from this angle, Arthur could see that Alfred had a small Bluetooth piece in one ear.

It really _was_ him on the phone…

"Um…Forget I said anything about unrequited feelings," Arthur stammered to the radio DJ. "I'll go on the date."

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**A/N:**

Written for the 365daysofusuk drabble calendar on tumblr. (Posted on March 1st, 2014.)

This is based on a real radio dating show in England. I haven't heard it in a few years, but I don't tune in specifically to catch it, so it may still be on air.

The premise: a man or woman calls into the DJ saying they want to ask someone out, but they're too shy/nervous. They must have ALREADY been given the number of the person they want to call - you can't just say "I really like this girl from my college class but I'm too shy to ask for her number, so can you call her for me?" There has to already be some sort of relationship, because the DJ isn't going to help you call up a total stranger you've never spoken to before. That would be weird and wrong.

Alfred gave Elizabeta Arthur's work phone number for the show, which is what happened quite often on the real 'Flirty at 9:30.'

I will never forget this one episode I heard a few years ago. A man called into 'Flirty at 9:30' and said he met a beautiful woman at a gas station. She'd given him her phone number, but he was nervous about asking her out, so he got the DJ to call up the lady on his behalf. But the woman had NO recollection of ever giving her number to a guy at a gas station... It turned out she had been reading her phone number aloud for her friend to write down, and this man had thought to himself: "She's blatantly just finding an excuse to read out her number because she wants ME to write it down and call her!" So he wrote it down, got a DJ to call her up and ask her out on national radio...and obviously he was shot the fuck down, because he was a total creep.


End file.
